At midnight when you need someone
by mieh
Summary: One shot. Our lines are as blurry as lines can get. I'm the person that you call at 6 in the morning or at midnight when you need someone. We smile, we drink, we flirt...


**A/N: If this is terribly bad, please direct your complaints to Ali and Etty. It's their fault.**

She's woken up by the sound of her phone ringing on her night stand and expels an annoyed moan before she stretches in bed, turns on her lamp and checks the caller id, even though she really didn't need to.

"I hope you're calling because you've been hospitalized," she says, voice hoarse from sleep.

"I woke you up."

"No shit, Sherlock."

Harvey grinned on his side of the line "I forgot you were so cranky when you wake up".

"I'm not cranky when I wake up, I'm cranky when I'm woken up." She pulls herself up a bit to rest against the headboard, her eyes closed and briefly considering she should find the fact that Harvey has that kind of knowledge about her and her crankiness at least a little weird, but she doesn't. "What time is it anyway?"

"Around eleven," he says in a sheepish tone that makes her feel the need to check for herself.

"Harvey, it's midnight!" Donna cries out annoyed.

"Like I said, it's midnight."

The man is shameless, she thinks, or maybe not, because he falls into a lingering silence after that.

"So...? Any reason for you to wake me up other than to inform me of the time?"

"Yeah, sorry. I just need to make sure you sent those contracts to Jonathan Palmer."

"I did." She responds briefly, knowing full well he already knew that. She doesn't really see the point in calling him out on his bullshit, though, when she's sure _he knows_ she's fully aware of what he's doing. So she just slowly slides from the headboard and settles herself back into her pillows. She turns to her side under her covers, gets comfortable and gives in to what will inevitably come.

"Now that you're up..." Harvey coaxes slyly. He really is shameless.

"What are you still doing up?" Donna asks. "Didn't you close that case today?"

"Who says I'm up?" He grins, rested against his own pillows in the middle of a bed that feels too big for him at that moment.

"Couldn't sleep?" Donna's voice is low and sweet, in that way it always seemed to be when she was being extra nice to him.

"No, but to be fair I don't think I gave it a fair shot... Hey," he suddenly remembers "guess who I ran into today?"

"One of The Bangles?" she jokes mid yawn.

"Big Bertha."

"Really? Where?" Donna was surprised. Harvey and Big Bertha didn't exactly hang around with the same crowd.

"At the supermarket."

" _You_ went to the supermarket?" she can't help but raise an eyebrow in mockery and disbelief even though he would never see it.

"Hey, I eat!" Harvey exclaims in fake offense.

"Oh, that I know," she chuckles.

"I saw her at the courthouse. She's working at a judge's desk now."

"I haven't seen her in forever..."

"She asked about you," Harvey tells her. What Bertha had asked, to be more specific, was whether him and _Red_ had 'finally got together and made some smarty pants strawberry blond babies', but he wasn't about to get that specific with Donna, so he only shared the smallest bit of information "I mean, she asked about 'Red', I'm assuming she meant you."

"That many other Reds in your life, Harvey?"

"Nope. You're my one and only."

It was nothing, really. So why did she melt into her pillows feeling little shivers run through her body? Why did she feel a pleasant but very inconvenient fluttering in her stomach? And why did he have to use that low tone of voice with her? It was soft and slightly hoarse and it sounded like it was coming from somewhere deeper. His _one and only_... She shoves that quote into a mental box labeled 'do not open' as fast as she can, trying to suppress the thought that that box was getting way too heavy for her to hold.

"Did you tell her how much more awesome I've become over the years?" Donna tries for over confidence to escape from being caught feeling way more vulnerable than she should.

"We did not share our life history, Donna."

"Meaning you only said hi and nothing more."

"Something like that."

What he actually meant was that he bolted as fast as he could when he suddenly found himself unable to respond to Bertha's jab because his tongue simply couldn't utter a sentence that explained his relationship with Donna. No easy way out, not smug reply… his mind went blank. He couldn't say that they were just friends, it didn't sound encompassing enough for their relationship. He also sure as shit couldn't say that he was actually dating someone else, but _why_ he couldn't say that was probably the reason he was still awake, trying to distract himself enough to rid his mind of that line of thought. So he just wiggled his brows, informed the woman that Donna was just fine and... Bolted.

"Are you listening to music?" Only then Donna notices the smooth jazz playing very quietly in the background of the phone call.

"Yeah."

"What's that?"

"Seriously? I might have to fire you." Now his offense wasn't so fake.

"I can barely hear anything!" she defends.

"Wait a sec."

Donna hears some shuffling coming from his sheets and moments later the music gets a little louder, allowing her to discern the melodies of his Miles Davis record.

"So?" Harvey challenges, molding himself back against his pillows and under the covers.

"I swear to God, if you complain about that scratch again I'm leaving you."

Donna hears Harvey's low, soft laugh. A breathy sound that would rarely escape his lips, but every time it did it seemed to be caused by her - something she said or did, or just the way she looked at him. She's been listening to that sound less and less in the past months and she misses it.

For too long now she's been noticing something off about him. Not that he was sad, but there was something… lacking? He seemed calm most of the time, but she had the strange feeling that was more so apathy or maybe acceptance of some sort of defeat. She has asked him if everything's fine, pointing out that he seemed a little different, but he assured her that everything was ok, that nothing was going on. He smiled and it seemed genuine enough that she had let it go, but still she missed that truly relaxed, truly mirthful, small proof of happiness he just shared with her in that moment.

When the sound of his laugh fades into the air, they find themselves laying in silence listening to the music together. Phones resting warmly against their cheeks, both under the covers in their dimly lit bedrooms, separated by some odd Manhattan miles but feelings incredibly close to one another.

The music skips a beat, record player needle jumping over the dent in the vinyl and skipping a note before returning to its usual smoothness. Donna scrunches up her nose in silent guilt.

Truth was, for some reason Harvey could not grasp himself, that little jump on the melody caused by Donna scratching what was one of his favorite vinyl made him happy. He felt his heart do a little jump along with the disk every time he listened to that particular song. It jumped even though he knew it was coming. It jumped and although that annoyed him at first, it's been years since the little jump brings a smile to his face every time he listens to that record.

Soon enough the music ends and they both sigh, engulfed by the silence that precedes the next song.

"So…" Harvey's playful voice breaks the silence "What you're wearing?"

Donna bursts into a loud laughter at the other end of the line. A full on hearty laugh, the kind that only happened when she was truly caught off guard (which was way too rare, if anybody asked Harvey) and found it completely hilarious.

Harvey immediately starts laughing along, the lines around his eyes creasing with bliss, partially by his own joke, but mostly by the sound of her laugh. He misses it even more than he thought he would and it's not the first time he realizes that. Ever since he had promoted her to COO, despite how much he knew she deserved it, despite how much she was doing for the firm, he feels like he's lost so much of her.

He didn't find her sitting at his chair when he came back to his office anymore. He couldn't count on her texting and calling him when he was away to tell him something's changed in his schedule or just that Louis did something stupidly funny while he wasn't there. She wouldn't wander into his office multiple times a day to ask him something or to silently place some files on his desk and leave him with a smile. And the worst part was he couldn't just lift his gaze and instantly see her sitting in front of him, fifteen feet away and efficiently typing at her desk, red hair dangling over the back of her chair. Now all he could do was turn his gaze to the side and stare at a wall, knowing she was at the other side and trying not to dwell on that metaphor. Sometimes the thin plaster between them seemed completely impenetrable.

He's still grinning when she finally stops laughing and answers his question "I'm wearing nothing but a sheer coat of bitterness because you won't let me sleep," a reply that only makes his grin spread wider again.

"That's hot."

"Oh, I know."

"You can sleep if you want to…" he feels a little guilty for keeping her up, especially knowing she'll be back at the firm way earlier in the morning than him, but really hoping she says no to his offer because he isn't ready to hang up just yet.

"I think I'm going to finish listening to this record first," Donna says softly much to his relief "since this is probably the only way I can have access to your Miles Davis anymore."

"Don't be dramatic."

"You totally took it away from your office and hid it at your place so I couldn't touch it anymore. Don't you think I don't know that."

Harvey chuckles. She's not exactly wrong. He had annoyingly taken it home many years ago to protect the record from further damage, but the reason he never returned it to the bulk of his collection at the firm was that he got used to having it around to listen to on nights like this one, when he felt a kind of loneliness that only one person in the world could make go away. Well, two, if he counted Miles Davis, which he often did for the sake of not making this kind of phone call too frequently. He knew he couldn't always get away with it. He got lucky tonight.

He takes a deep breath and readjusts himself in bed, feeling a sort of lightness in his heart that he can't even recall the last time he felt. "Ok, then. Let's listen to it."

Donna smiles lazily from her bed, eyes long closed, knowing she would soon be back asleep to the sound of Miles Davis and Harvey's breathing.


End file.
